Written Dreams are like Training Arcs

“Think back to your very own childhood, Mr. Charles. Think of someone you easily vilified. Perhaps a school teacher or a bully. Think about what you hated about them. Exaggerate their vile qualities to fantastical proportions.”

He thought about it and remembered a boy named Parsons in grade school. He was large but athletic for his shape and constantly emitted stale sweat. He was also slow and was frequently manipulated by the more vicious kids to do their bidding. But at least they had cunning whereas he—

“Ms. Mayberry, what is this for? The way you described it, I thought imagination should be used for a purer purpose not this-” His saliva caught in his throat and forced him to pause. “This unreasonable hate I have bubbling inside of me!”

“And would the stories that you write be pure if you were still capable of feeling this unreasonable hate? There is a word for this: therapy. You are creating an evil because the good need a reason to fight. Please note that I am starting you off easy, Mr. Charles.”

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